Need You Now
by ChaoticFlower15
Summary: A Ron and Hermione one-shot based off of Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now".


_Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor.  
>Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore.<br>And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.  
>For me it happens all the time<em>

I catch a flash of smile; yours of course. Our many dates and outings. Every kiss and touch. It all flashes before my eyes. Then a more recent memory plays.  
>"Ron! I can't believe you would say that!" I had screeched. Ron was by the front door, staring me down. The tension in the air was incredibly palpable.<br>"Yeah, well…" Memory-Ron's words fade out. I can't even remember what we had been fighting for.  
>"That's it!" I had snapped. "I am out of here!" I still can picture the stunned look on his face as I grabbed my purse and stalked out the door.<br>He grabbed my arm. "Hermi-" he started to say, but I slapped him good and hard across his face.  
>"Don't touch me." And then I was gone.<br>I sighed and tried to shake the memories away. It didn't work. I went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of rum. I stared at the bottle for a moment, contemplating. Then I swigged a third of it in one go.  
>I left the kitchen and threw myself onto my couch. With a lazy flick of my wand, music poured from the stereo. A sad country song. How fitting.<br>I willed myself to fall asleep, but nothing happened. Maybe I need more rum. Down went another third. A buzzing sensation flooded my mind. Hehe, it tickled. How about that? Just like caterpillars in my brain.

I laugh even more, doubling over. Then I find myself with BlackBerry in hand, punching in Harry's phone number. Maybe he knows where Ron is.  
>God, I must really be drunk to think about tracking down Ron. Besides, if I wanted to talk to him, his number was in my contact list. I sit up. Is he even thinking about me right now? Why am I thinking about him in the first place? I'm supposed to be mad at him!<br>I throw my phone behind me. Then I flop back down on the couch and drain the rest of the bottle. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

_It's a quarter after one  
>I'm all alone and I need you now<br>Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control  
>And I need you now<br>And I don't know how I could do without  
>I just need you now<em>

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door  
>Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before<br>And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
>For me it happens all the time<p>

I can't believe it. After four flasks of whiskey and several butterbeers, I still think about her. Hermione, why won't you come back to me? I didn't mean what I said. After all these years you should know that.  
>I scratch my head. I'm alone at my apartment, lying in the middle of the floor. I feel pathetic. It's after one in the morning, nearly six hours after our fight. Shouldn't she be cooled off by now? I can't even remember what we were arguing about. I put a hand to my right cheek, touching the gash that had come from Hermione's ring connecting with my face. It had finally stopped bleeding. I wish I could stop my emotions, scab them over and lock them inside. But they always come pouring out when I remember where that ring had ended up, and I don't mean slapping my face.<br>She had all but ripped it off her left hand and threw it at me without looking back.  
>It makes me wonder why I even kept glancing at the front door, expecting it to burst open and reveal her slim, perfect, lovely silhouette.<p>

_It's a quarter after one,  
>I'm a little drunk and I need you now<em>

I have got to call her. I've got to make up for what I did. She's the best thing to ever happen to me and I know damn well I'm not going to let things end like this.  
>I stand up and go into the bedroom. I sit down on my bed and pick up the phone. I stare at it for a long time. Then, slowly, I dial.<p>

_Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control  
>And I need you now<em>

The buzzing in my brain has stopped. I can think rationally again, but I choose not to. I need to talk to him. "No," I correct myself aloud. "I need him. I need Ron. Now!"  
>I hurry to my BlackBerry, which luckily had landed in a basket of socks I hadn't felt like folding. I pick it up gingerly, then hesitate. I take a deep breath, in and out. I start typing in his number.<p>

_And I don't know how I could do without  
>I just need you now<em>

If she is still mad at me, well then it's my fault. I can't stand not knowing how she is, what she's thinking, how she's feeling. I'd rather the truth hurt me than feel the numbness of not knowing.

_Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all…_

Before I can finish dialing, my phone rings, blaring a fast-paced Kesha song. I stumble, startled, but quickly recover. I answer without checking the number. "Hello?"  
>"I'm so sorry, Hermione. Please, please forgive me. I love you so much."<br>"Ron…" I try to calm myself but my voice cracks and any restraint I had crumbles away. "Oh, Ron!" I start to sob.

_It's a quarter after one  
>I'm a alone and I need you now<br>Said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk  
>And I need you now<br>And I don't know how I can do without  
>I just need you now<em>


End file.
